Push and Pull
by you-make-me-wander
Summary: He can't think of many things more attractive than falling for a beautiful someone whose beauty isn't what actually attracts him. Only problem is, he can't stand her, a feeling that she reciprocates passionately. When Bellamy and Clarke are paired up for a First Kiss Experiment, could anything go right?


#CollegeAU #ModernAU #FirstKissExperiment #A little angst, a little bickering, with a little humor and fluff to wrap it all up

"You?!"

Clarke's question comes out even before he has the chance to notice her, and really, who is she to blame? How could she ever guess she'd be paired up with _him_?

"Clarke?"

Well, at least he looks as stunned as she feels. She tries to convey as much annoyance in her tone as she can muster. "Bellamy."

He looks around hesitantly, taking in the room they're in and the paraphernalia of filming equipment surrounding them, not to mention the crew that is not putting that much of an effort in ignoring the palpable tension that there is between them. "Is this for real?"

Clarke crosses her arms at her chest and narrows her eyes at him. "What, is the setting not enough for you?"

Bellamy glares and takes a few more steps into the room, every single one reminding her of why they're both here. Is she going to let this happen? Should she? "I don't have a problem with the setting, but I'm not fond of this match, now that you've asked, _Princess_."

Stomping towards him, Clarke wonders if the cameras can pick up the steam coming out of her ears. She _hates_ that nickname with a passion- "Don't you call me that!," she chastises. "Do you always have to ruin everything?"

"When it comes to you, yes," he finds himself mumbling without meaning to. Bellamy rakes a hand through his already unruly hair, huffing tensely, and gathering his thoughts he takes a moment to study her. From the intricate, yet soft hairdo she decided to go with today even though it's partly hidden by a beret that looks far too adorable on her, to the casual dark grey dress that does nothing to hide her curves despite its high neck and knee-length skirt that go along with modest white heels, to the gleam in her eyes that readies to set him ablaze and that she always wears so well whenever she sees him.

Christ, he's pathetic. "What are you doing here?"

Will she ever find out the true meaning of all the things he says under his breath and that he seems to think she can't hear? Does she even want to? When did they ever get within two feet of each other anyway? He was just across the room. "I could ask you the same thing!"

Damn it, can she push his buttons. "Well, I asked first."

Clarkes snorts. "Real mature, Bell." She inhales sharply as soon as she realizes that her own nickname for him escaped her lips, and gets to talking immediately in hopes that he doesn't catch it. "I was selected to be part of the Columbus First Kiss Experiment. Same as you, I'm guessing. If I'd known I'd be paired up with the likes of you though, I'd never have signed up for it."

She had done so on a whim. Mostly because the team behind the project was offering a cash prize to those chosen to participate and Clarke, as any other college student, needed to make ends meet, but also because some of her friends were behind the experiment and she'd been persuaded to join in. There's a chance that a very, very small part of her signed up for the possibility of meeting someone new, as well. God knows her life could get a little more interesting; instead, she got Bellamy Blake to stir things up.

 _Figures_.

"Well, I wasn't exactly expecting to find you here either," he spats, inching ever closer. Truth is, it's not like he was hoping he wouldn't, but despite the obvious, sizzling attraction between them, Bellamy hasn't a single clue as to how she'll ever not drive him insane. "I shouldn't even be here."

"Then why are you?"

He's so gonna kill O for this when he gets home… "I lost a bet," he hates admitting, but those hypnotic eyes of her have him spilling out the truth.

"So? Just pretend you did it and get out of here," she tries to dissuade him, if anything because she's almost utterly sure that if they get this party started and actually do this, they'll be opening a Pandora's box that Clarke isn't so sure they can contain. Could she deal with kissing him? Could _he_? "Save us both from having to do this."

Clarke is nervous, he can tell, but it doesn't stop him from riling her up further. "That's not how it works, Princess."

Bellamy swears on his life that she half groans, half growls. "You know what? It doesn't matter. There's the door," she tells him, pointing in the direction from where he'd just came in. Bellamy almost laughs at her stubbornness, but thinks best of it and stops himself. "You can get going."

Okay, so maybe he can work with this.

Their friends have told him time and time again that all this… _Animosity_ between himself and Clarke might be more than just good-natured, pent-up frustration. More than both their leading, strong personalities clashing. Bellamy can't deny, even if he wants to, that he is attracted to her for so much more than her beauty. He likes how smart and creative she is, relishes on that she's one of the few people that can stand up to him and call him on his bullshit, even if it drives him mad. And there's no forgetting that smart mouth of hers…

Maybe they just need to get this over with. Maybe if he can get _her_ to kiss _him_ , not only Clarke won't ever be able to blame him for this, but he would finally get to kill his curiosity and find out just how Clarke Griffin _tastes_.

Two for one.

He's all about good deals.

He stands taller and smirks a little, wider when he notices that his cockiness gets on her nerves. "I'm not going anywhere. Are we gonna do this or what?"

She knew there were variables that she would have no control over. She knew that, for all the people selected to partake in the experiment, she could have fallen in one of many groups. The First Kiss Experiment with strangers from the opposite sex, with strangers from the same sex. Then the same thing with people that already knew each other. Some groups would even go through the experience with blindfolds on, and Clarke was ready to be in any of the groups, as all the other candidates would have to be, but ending up with Bellamy?

Honestly, what are the chances?

Clarke can only stare at him, disbelieving. Bellamy can't possibly _want_ this, right? She's never been anything but his sister's friend, never been more than an acquaintance that he's barely tolerated over the years. She's always been too young and more of a dreamer, whereas Bellamy always seemed like he knew what he wanted and what he was doing. Sure, she's been attracted to him for a while, but who can blame her? Anyone with eyes would be. But then he's got that _no-nonsense_ , _I-know-best_ attitude that drives her up the wall, wears that panty-melting smirk whenever he thinks he's right about something, and Clarke can't honestly fathom why she enjoys looking at his pretty face, or getting into heated arguments with him or engaging in the occasional playful banter.

The heavens forbid Clarke will ever tell him just how clever she thinks he really is, or how responsible and mature he's always been, at least where raising Octavia is concerned. But Clarke is just an Art student living away from home and still trying to find out who she wants to be in life and then there's Bellamy, the successful owner of one of the oldest bookshops on Campus and he's only five years her senior. His audacity and confidence both intimidate and arouse her, and Clarke finds herself at a loss on what to do about him.

Can they do this?

 _Should_ they?

It's been going on four years, and this push and pull is gonna be the death of them one day.

"What's it gonna be, Princess?" Voice raspy, Bellamy leans forward just the tiniest bit, already so into her personal space that Clarke feels sudden shortness of breath. She thinks his hands, now at his sides, are about to touch hers for she can feel the unmistakable magnetism threatening to pull them together. For a moment, Clarke lets her mind wander, taking in how good he looks today with the messy hair, a light grey t-shirt that fits him sinfully and old, dark jeans, imagining what it would be like to have his lips pressed against hers.

Should she push against this or give in?

"Shut up," she says, yet it's but a whisper, and not derogatory in the least. Even if she wanted to make a conscious decision about this, Clarke finds herself inching closer and closer, until there's barely any space left between them. When one of her hands comes up to rest on his torso, they both look at it in silence, at a loss for words when they realize it was inevitable to begin with. That this is really going to happen, and was always going to.

His fingers skim the fabric of her dress before settling hesitantly on her waist, and the resolve to stay trumps the will to bolt at a moment's notice. It's hard to maintain eye contact when the air between them is sizzling with static, but his voice draws her gaze back to his face, and Clarke likes the way his body molds against hers. "I can't stand you," he drawls, and their foreheads touch. She feels heat at the back of her neck where he strokes her skin lightly.

Clarke throws caution to the wind. "Like I can stand you!"

It's unsure who moves first but they meet halfway, a clash of eagerness and intent and raw want finishing the little restraint they so obviously didn't have to begin with. Her hands pull at the collar of his shirt whereas his wrap around her waist comfortably, and Clarke can't understand why she was so reluctant to accept this.

Bellamy holds her as close as he can have her, and for the moment he can't find it in himself to worry about what will come of this. For now there's only her, and the way she smells and tastes and feels so right against him. And dammed be him if he doesn't want all that she is willing to give.

It's a push and pull, a give and take of lingering touches and kisses that turn softer as time passes them by, until they can't avoid the need to come up for air. Bellamy still licks her lips when they part, and Clarke stills her arms around his neck as if she doesn't want to let go either, not just yet.

They open their eyes, and they breathe. And they stare.

And then they pull apart abruptly when Jackson, the camera guy, interrupts their moment and everyone around them claps. "And cut! That was great, guys. Thanks for coming in. We'll be in touch."

When did they forget they were surrounded by other people? And was everything that just happened filmed?!

Clarke blushes furiously, and Bellamy would tease her about it if he wasn't feeling so uneasy himself. Giving in seemed like a much brighter idea before they did it. "That was… Hmm…"

"Yeah."

They're ushered out of the room now that their part is over, and it's in a badly lit hallway that their eyes meet again. Their connection feels as strange and spellbinding as it always has. "So…" Bellamy rubs the back of his neck absently, searching her gaze.

Clarke bumps his shoulder with hers and starts walking slowly towards the exit. "That was something."

It's hard to miss the smile he poorly hides. "I guess it was."

"But you can't stand me, uh?"

Bellamy smirks. "Wow. It took you all of five seconds to start bickering. Must be a record."

"I was just saying. You're the one who kissed me."

Her face is still red, but it's now more of a cute, embarrassed blush that paints her cheeks that Bellamy wouldn't mind seeing again. "I was the one who kissed you? You're the one who was enjoying herself a little bit too much for someone who wanted me out of there, wouldn't you agree?"

Clarke stops on her tracks and faces him, causing Bellamy to almost bump into her. "You were _holding_ me."

Bellamy grins despite himself. How he'll keep a straight face whenever he riles her up going forward, knowing now what she tastes likes, he doesn't know. But he thinks he'll enjoy himself figuring it out. "You were holding _onto_ me."

"Ugh, you're impossible," Clarke laments, throwing her hands in the air.

Bellamy laughs, and his presence his too warm so near to her. And comforting, and inviting, and alluring. Clarke has to fight the urge to tug at his shirt again to kiss him. "As are you, Princess."

She wishes he were messing with her again, but his voice came out huskier, breathier once more, and stepping away from him is one of the most difficult things Clarke has ever had to do. If this is how it's going to be from now on, they're totally screwed.

"I should go," she lets out softly. _Before I do something I would probably not regret all that much_ is what she doesn't say.

He can tell, though. Looking into her eyes, he can tell. "Yeah. I'll see you around" is all he can get out before Clarke turns on her heels and flees to the parking lot, leaving him rooted on the spot and watching her go. Now that they've had a taste of each other, will they be able to resist temptation?, he wonders.

He guesses it's for them to know, and for them to find out.

Author's note: I should be studying for my exams, but instead I got inspired in a dream I had last night and I felt like writing some Bellarke, so here.

As always, feel free to let me know what you think.

I'm you-make-me-wander on tumblr :)


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